


Help

by orphan_account



Series: Brothers [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: AU, Brothers, Gen, troll!Kurt is a troll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is going to him for his intelligence, and suddenly, everything is all aglow with beauty and light, and Loki feels so wonderfully wide awake, and Kitty’s actually not that bad to be so close to, because hot damn – Thor is a dumbass and Loki is actually better than him at something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I think I’m going to start out by saying you might be a tad bit disappointed by this chapter. It’s not a monster like the last one was, but uhm… there will be little baby steps like these all throughout the verse. That’s pretty much it for now. Enjoy.

He and Kitty are trying to fix one of the computers in the lab for the fifteen millionth time. It’s the machine all the way in the back and right next to the window, and it’s been crashing almost every other afternoon for a whole damn week. Loki kind of wants to take a crowbar to it at this point.

“Do you think it’s a virus?” Kitty asks from where she’s bent over his shoulder, and while her curiosity/voice/demeanor is usually incredibly endearing to Loki, he’s having a hard time not screaming at her due to a lack of sleep and his aggravation towards this _fucking_ computer. Loki sighs.

“I don’t see how it could be with all the antivirus software we have on this thing,” he replies, glaring just shy of murderously at the progress bar floating on the screen. _God_ , he hates old technology.

Kitty makes a soft noise of assent and moves to reach around Loki, and it’s all he can do to not slap her hand away or snap at the poor girl when she questions, “Can I try something?”

“Have fun,” he grumbles in reply. Kitty shoots him a brief, concerned look that he easily deflects by staring off into the middle-distance and turning into a human thundercloud.

Don’t worry, Kitty. Loki’s just on his period.

About five minutes later, the two of them are making noises that sound a whole lot like a couple of seals dying on a patch of ice, all because the computer decided to crash _again_.

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Loki snarls, aiming a rather belligerent kick at the hard drive beneath the desk. Coincidentally, Professor Xavier wheels his way into the computer lab just as the swear leaves his mouth, and suddenly Kitty’s face is all red and Loki really hates his life and the universe and everything about everything. _Fuck._

There go his good standings with his boss. Look at them run. They’re even waving him _goodbye_.

Instead of scolding him, though, Professor X emits a low, pleased laugh and rolls on over to where Loki and Kitty are tangled up in the monster computer. He angles his head towards the machine, says, “I can empathize, Loki.”

Loki really doesn’t know what to say to that, so he says nothing, opting to just _stare_ at his boss, who probably knows that he’s the most awkward, unpleasant person on the face of the earth now, like a goddamn idiot. _Thanks_ , insomnia.

“I’m considering just throwing this thing out,” Professor X goes on with a slightly rueful sigh, leaning back in his wheelchair, “It’s ancient.”

“Can we, like, have a funeral for it?” Kitty asks, _finally_ pulling away from Loki and running a hand through her thick hair. She turns to face Professor X, a characteristically bashful smile blooming across her face as she does. “And buy flowers and stuff?”

“Can we burn it?” Loki interjects, and _goddamn_ , why is he so fucking _awful_ today? Of course, his sleeplessness could count as a somewhat valid reason for his dreadfulness, and his unpleasant episode with Thor this morning (the man refused to wake up until Loki dragged him halfway out of his bed by his ankles, and you can just about imagine how _that_ went over) coupled with the fact that the world seems just a bit darker without Tony there to constantly brighten it up also justifies his shitty mood, if only just slightly. But still. All of that really isn’t an excuse for acting like the bitchiest bitch in the universe.

But, the world must take a little pity on him (for once), because Professor X laughs again, muses, “A funeral pyre! Excellent idea!”

And then Kitty and Professor X are just laughing so goddamn _sweetly_ that Loki wants to kick himself in the mouth, because _no_ , he didn’t mean it that way, and his stupid, _stupid_ mood won’t let him laugh along with them, and nothing is funny, and sometimes, he’ll wonder why he’s allowed to breathe around people so much more beautiful and happy than himself. _Gosh_.

Just as Loki begins to contemplate thoughts of losing himself in cold medication as soon as he gets home, Professor X draws his attention with a chuckled, “Oh, Loki! You have a visitor waiting for you in the front.”

Loki glances up from where he was studying the carpet, green eyes faintly inquisitive as he asks, “Yeah?” We all know who he’s hoping this _visitor_ is, don’t we? (Really. Is it not fairly obvious?)

A jolt of disappointment hits him when Professor X replies, “It’s your brother. He said it was…” He pauses, hints a minute, amused smile. “… _important_.”

Well, then. This is odd, to say the least. Thor has _never_ come to the library to see Loki (he’s never come to the library _at all_ , really).

Loki rolls his eyes and outright _scoffs_ despite himself, getting to his feet with a troubled sort of sigh. “Knowing him, this is probably going to be ridiculous,” he groans, and when Professor X and Kitty laugh yet _again_ at his totally non-humorous comment, he kind of wants to kill himself (manic episode, anyone?).

“I’ve never met your brother before, Loki,” Kitty announces as she trails Loki on his way out of the computer lab, Professor X rolling along right after her.

“And aren’t you lucky?” Loki retorts with about a gallon of sarcasm. He softens his comment with a miniscule smirk aimed Kitty’s way, and the girl rewards him with a downright _adorable_ grin. She moves to hook her arm with his in an almost unsettling show of _friendship_ (ew, what’s that?), and Loki has to remind himself how to be civil before he accidentally shoves her to the ground or something. Wow, he’s ugly.

“But, really!” Kitty cries, leaning into Loki’s side enough to make the man bite the inside of his mouth and pray for mercy, “I’d like to meet Thor! Formally!”

“Give the girl what she wants, Loki,” Professor X chimes in from behind them, “I’m sure Thor isn’t _that_ bad.”

Now, this is one of those moments where Loki’s chosen course of action will speak volumes about who he is as a person, much like how your reactions to Rorschach tests supposedly determine your frame of mind. Loki pauses before formulating his response, foolishly thinking that some higher power might be paying attention to him this very second, counting on him to say something selfless or suffer the consequences.

But who are we kidding, right? _Nobody_ cares about what Loki has to say, least of all a _deity_.

“You don’t have to live with him,” he counters a bit brusquely as he and Kitty stroll into the foyer. His eyes immediately land on his brother, so out-of-place and uncomfortable in such a setting as a library. And _fuck_ , if Thor doesn’t look like a giant bundle of unease and muscle and stupidity.

Ladies and gentlemen, Loki’s brother. His blood. His relative. They share DNA and stuff.

“Heya…” Thor greets him hesitantly, and to be honest, this is the most timid Loki’s ever seen his brother in his life. Seriously. It’s almost scary, not to mention _ridiculous_ considering that this is only a _library_ , and it’s not like one of Thor’s popular friends is going to fly out of nowhere with a camera and a microphone.

“Hi,” is Loki’s slightly gauche reply. He and Thor just kind of stare at each other for a few seconds (Jesus Christ, how fucking _awkward_ can you get?) before Loki remembers that Kitty’s a miniature powder keg at his side and Professor X is watching them like some kind of referee from the information desk. Uhm.

“Thor, this is Kitty,” Loki proclaims without preamble, smiling a tight little smile and nodding to the hobbit beside him.

And then Kitty’s hand is shooting out like a fucking cobra to shake Thor’s, and Thor is staring at her with this expression that makes Loki want to shrivel up and _die_ (it’s the most awful combination of condescension and awe, and you’ve probably all seen it before if you’ve ever had an easily-accessible idol in the vein of Thor), and the man is saying, “Pleasure to meet you,” in the most non-pleasant way you could ever imagine, and Loki really hates everything for the nth time today. _Goddamn_.

“Likewise,” Kitty is saying at the exact same time that Loki’s asking, “What do you want, brother?” Cue yet _another_ awkward moment (they’re just _full_ of those, let me tell you), and might I note that the way Loki says ‘ _brother_ ’ isn’t amiable or fraternal in the slightest.

When Thor gathers his scrambled thoughts enough to speak, he says, “I, uh…” He casts a brief glance to the floor (it’s kind of funny how people always look to the ground for confidence, like the Earth somehow has the spectacular and magical ability to bestow happiness upon anyone viewing it – yeah, _right_ ). “I need your help.” He tugs a bit nervously on the backpack strap slung over his shoulder, and that action alone clues Loki in to just what is going on.

Thor is going to him for his _intelligence_ , and suddenly, everything is all aglow with beauty and light, and Loki feels so wonderfully wide awake, and Kitty’s actually not that bad to be so close to, because _hot damn_ – Thor is a _dumbass_ and Loki is actually better than him at something. You know _that_ feeling, where your heart starts singing what sounds like gospel hymns and you’re like an Olympic medalist in the way you’re all shiny and invincible on the inside? It’s called _success_ (Sounds familiar? Not to Loki, it doesn’t.), and it’s filling Loki up to the brim right now.

Loki smiles, vague and calm and not at all true to the surplus of gold inside him, turns to Professor X and starts to ask, “Would it be okay if I could–”

“Go ahead,” Professor X cuts him off, and his answer only draws Loki’s smile even wider across his face. Oh, _joy_.

“I can work overtime if you want me to,” Loki offers, unhooking his arm from Kitty’s and grinning when the girl hugs against his side. _Really_ , his willingness to do any more than he actually has to is evidence enough of his unusual boost in mood. That he’s letting Kitty hug him like he’s her big brother or her boyfriend or something only solidifies the fact that he’s probably going crazy with happiness.

“It’s fine, Loki,” Professor X replies with a small smile, “Take your time.”

And then Loki _laughs_ , says, “Thank you,” and turns to give Kitty a big fat kiss on the forehead and an affectionate squeeze (well, if he isn’t suddenly the hugest fucking ray of sunshine). Kitty giggles as Loki directs his attention to Thor and prompts, “Shall we?”

While Professor X and Kitty carry on in their battle against the zombie computer terrorizing the lab, Loki escorts Thor upstairs, where little-to-no people can be found this late in the day, and sits him down at a table in one of the many studying pods on the floor.

“What is it?” Loki asks immediately after Thor has his ass planted in a chair. He leans over the table, his hands splayed flat and wide across the plywood as he probes, almost desperately, “You can’t make it through your physics course? Or is it engineering? I’ve heard that one’s pretty hard.”

“It’s calc,” Thor says a little roughly, tossing his backpack onto the tabletop and frowning up at Loki, who has a look that’s altogether too _pleased_ plastered on his face. Loki’s amused smirk turns into an outright grin at Thor’s response, because _holy **shit**_ , calculus is a _high school_ course and Loki’s been doing it since he was _fifteen years-old_ and oh _God_ , this is too fucking good. Seriously. _Seriously_.

“Calculus?” Loki inquires. His question has nothing to do with a lack of understanding and everything to do with the fact that he’s a spiteful bitch that likes to see Thor trip up and fall every now and then (and _really_ , who _doesn’t_ want to break something they love, if only for a moment?).

“Yeah,” Thor articulates, speaking in a deliberately slow manner. He’s staring his brother down with dull eyes that are just shy of icy, and while Loki is very much aware of how unappreciative Thor will be of the liberties he’s about to take, he absolutely _cannot_ find it in himself to care.

“That’s perfect!” Loki crows (jeeze, what an _asshole_ ), standing up straight and crossing his lanky arms over his chest. He brings an elegant index finger up to press against his bottom lip, asks, “What? Is it differential calculus or is it integral calculus?” He snorts. “Oh, who am I kidding? You probably don’t have a _clue_ if you’re coming to me.”

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor cuts his tangent short. He’s talking with that dangerous, hard voice he uses whenever he’s getting aggravated (and by _aggravated_ , I mean _really fucking angry_ ), and all of a sudden, Loki remembers himself. He remembers that he’s Thor’s _little_ brother for this very reason (said reason being the way he’s acting at the moment), remembers that he’s intelligent and witty and bitter in all the right ways, remembers that he’s a twenty year-old manic-depressive who’s most likely going through an episode of mania right now, remembers that he should probably slow the fuck _down_ if he wants to survive the afternoon. Yeah.

“What?” Loki asks again, significantly calmer this time. He’s actually looking at Thor as he speaks, now, mostly to show that he’s not actively trying to be a douchebag anymore.

“I’m _failing_ this class,” Thor explains carefully, and the grave seriousness with which the man is speaking strikes Loki like a lightning bolt in an electrical storm, becauseThor is _never_ serious about anything, least of all his _education_.

Impulsive and rude, Loki questions, “Why should I care?”

And this right here may very well be the reason why Thor and his cousins have abused Loki so extensively over the years – he’s a horribly selfish person who asks too many questions and has an unshakeable propensity towards lying. It’s _logical_ ; believable, even, that his family would punish him for such heinous behavior.

And you wonder why Loki hates himself.

Thor scowls something nasty and stormy, leans towards Loki with his arms spread wide and retorts, “Why _shouldn’t_ you? I’m your brother!”

Loki quirks his lips up into a playful smirk as a dubious show of peace (Peace? Between the two of them? _Ha_.), says rather matter-of-factly, “You wouldn’t do the same for me, Thor.”

(Fun Fact: Loki’s mouth is the loosest of cannons when he’s having a manic episode. There is absolutely _no_ filtering what might go flying between his lips at times like these.)

Thor’s face falls a bit at Loki’s words, and he lowers his arms to the tabletop as he argues, “Well, you wouldn’t ever need me to help you with _your_ homework…”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Loki snaps in a way that’s somehow quite charming, circling around the table to stand in front of his brother. He tilts his head, makes a face that communicates **_Don’t be dumb, now_** as well as **_I am thoroughly unimpressed with your mental finesse_** and says, “I’m talking about favors in general.”

Thor starts shaking his head and wrinkling his nose all flustered-like and embarrassed at what Loki’s implying, cries, “I get it, I get it! I owe you one.” The man squints his eyes up at Loki as he asks, “Are you gonna help me now or what?”

Loki’s smirk morphs into something soft and endearingly condescending (is that even possible?). He replies, “Sure,” easily grabbing a chair and pulling it up next to his brother’s.

“I bet you’re gonna make me do something really stupid,” Thor grumbles, grumpily shucking a calculus textbook and a notebook out of his backpack, “Like… dress like a girl or something.”

“Oh, please,” Loki scoffs good-naturedly, reaching across his brother to snatch two mechanical pencils from the man’s sack, “How would that benefit me?”

“You’d _laugh_ ,” Thor points out, and the look on his face is nothing short of terrified when Loki does exactly what he says and _laughs_ , **_loudly_**.

“Are you high?” Thor asks, scowling and tempestuous. It’s sort of-kind of _hilarious_ just how fucking grouchy the man is, and his sour mood only has Loki laughing even harder.

“ _No_ ,” Loki giggles. _Giggles_.

Thor flips his textbook open to page two-hundred and ninety-one with a sigh, eying Loki curiously. “Yeah, _right_ ,” he snorts.

“You know I’m sick,” Loki hums almost as an excuse, grabbing Thor’s notebook and finding a clean page. He automatically heads the page with the date and subject, more out of habit than for Thor’s sake.

Thor hesitates a moment and just watches Loki real carefully, and Loki knows that his statement has hit home even if he didn’t really mean for it to, even if he’s giddy and manic and just a bit delirious, even if this is a pretty damn innocuous situation. Maybe he’s some kind of dark, sinister creature full of double entendres, destined to meet his demise through his own gloomy wordplay.

Or, he’s just a frenzied lunatic who’s incredibly indiscriminate right now. Yeah. That sounds accurate.

“Take some medicine,” Thor retorts somewhat cautiously. While his words have a lot of potential to send Loki flying into a rage (or a depression, same difference), they don’t. Not now.

“Not my style,” Loki counters, and before Thor can talk back to him, he reaches over and pinches the man’s cheek,  says, “Cheer up, will you? You’re too cute to be frowning like you are.”

Instead of getting all pissed off and worked up like Loki expects him to, Thor grins and lets out this thunderous roar of a laugh, his usual self quickly emerging. He whines, a bit half-heartedly, “You’re so gay!”

Loki sticks his tongue out at Thor, ever the mature human being, shoving a pencil into his hand, jabbing a finger at his textbook, and commanding, “Show me what you’ve been doing so I can tell you where you’re going wrong.”

It takes about seven minutes for Thor to get through _one_ problem, and by the time he’s done, Loki is sitting back in his chair and seriously wondering why-oh- _why_ he decided to help his brother at all.

Well, the answer’s right there. They’re _brothers_ , and that’s supposed to mean something significant for whatever reason.

“Okay…” Loki starts to say, the vexed inflection of his voice almost effortlessly drawing Thor’s gaze his way. He rubs his fingers against his temple, giving Thor his best **_Bitch, please_** look, complete with arched eyebrows and Bambi eyes, and sighing, “Please be truthful with me when I ask you if you know what a derivative is.”

Thor blinks.

“Do you know what a derivative is?” Loki questions in a slightly clipped tone.

“It’s the slope,” Thor says as if _Loki_ is the dumb one here, and his answer is enough to have the younger of the two of them backtracking to his previously manic mood. Loki grins.

“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that, what would I be?” he asks, leaning forward and taking his pencil in hand once more.

“Rich?” Thor answers, hesitant because he knows how tricky and spiteful Loki can be when he wants to (which is ninety-nine percent of the time, to be honest).

“And terribly frustrated with humanity,” Loki quips, bopping Thor on the nose with his eraser before diving into his near-perfect explanation of what is what. “The _slope_ is the ratio of the altitude change to the horizontal distance between any two points on the line. The _derivative_ is how much one quantity is changing in response to changes in another. It is the slope of the line tangent to the curve at the point. Understand?”

“Could you repeat that in English, Mister Textbook?” Thor replies, his brows knitted together in an obvious expression of confusion. Loki sighs, long and unnecessary and so very _entitled_.

“The _slope_ is the rise divided by the run,” Loki carefully elaborates, snatching Thor’s notebook and turning it so that he can write comfortably (damn his left-handedness). He sketches out a coordinate plane and slashes a line across it, points his eraser at the x-axis. “If this line is ‘running’ two units for every four units it ‘rises’, what is the slope?”

“Two,” Thor answers after a beat of mental calculation.

“Correct,” Loki says. He erases the straight line he’s drawn and replaces it with a parabola, then draws a point on said parabola and puts a tangent line on it. Thor’s face quickly transforms into something nervous and alarmed as Loki draws, so Loki pokes the man’s cheek and lets out an airy chuckle to ease his nerves.

“Don’t be scared,” he purrs, “I’m right here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thor croaks, sighing deeply in his anxiety.

“Look here,” Loki instructs, “The slope of _this_ , which is the tangent line, is two, right?” Thor nods, after which Loki draws three more tangent lines at various other points on the parabola. “Here, it’s one half, here it’s one third, and here, it’s one fourth. What does that tell you?”

Thor stares hard at his notebook for about a minute in a half before replying, slow and uncertain, “That the derivative is always changing?”

Loki grins, crows, “Yes!” As a small smile begins to blossom across Thor’s face, Loki explains, “Curved lines don’t have set slopes, because the rate of change is constantly being altered. They have _derivatives_ , which _are_ slopes, but not of the lines themselves.” He points to the tangent. “They’re the slopes of the tangent lines. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. _Yeah!_ ” Thor exclaims, clapping a heavy, painful hand on Loki’s poor porcelain shoulder (where bruises will almost certainly be tomorrow). He’s grinning from ear-to-ear, all accomplished and proud and _fuck_ , Loki feels like he’s actually done the right thing for once. That’s a nice sensation going on right there in the center of his chest, it is.

“Good,” Loki hums. He refuses to look at Thor as he brings the man’s textbook closer to him, mostly because he knows doing so will most likely make him cry golden tears of sheer happiness.

“Thanks, Loki. I don’t think I would have gotten that if you hadn’t showed me,” Thor goes on, and this time, Loki can’t _not_ look at his brother. All of a sudden, they’re both smiling like idiots and Loki actually feels his eyes getting wet with emotion and Thor is looking at him like he’s some kind of wonderful deity in his eternal favor and oh _God_ , this is way too much like a Hallmark movie to actually be for real.

“You’re welcome,” Loki laughs. He allows himself to watch Thor one beautiful second more before turning his attention back to the calculus in front of them, taking a deep breath, and starting, “Now, about this problem.”

 

~*~ 

 

It’s nearing seven o’clock when Loki and Thor have worked their way through a whole chapter in Thor’s textbook. Their easy hype and playful banter is pretty much brought to a close when Kurt Wagner appears out of fucking nowhere and announces, real pompous and sanctimonious, “Professor X says you can go home, now.”

Thor and Loki look up in near-perfect unison at Kurt’s arrival, and then all three of them are abruptly and uncomfortably silent while they figure out who’s going to say something first (because everybody is always awkward around each other and the world is an awful place full of decisions to be made). Uhm.

“Thank you,” Loki manages after a few long moments. His statement functions as something like a green light for Thor to start packing his shit into his backpack, the man more than eager to get his yucky schoolwork out of his face.

Kurt smiles something thin and droll, nods curtly (haha, _curtly_ ), and replies, “No problem.” He slowly, leisurely dawdles his way out of the study pod and disappears behind a bookshelf, Loki fastidiously watching him the whole way, and _really_ , that boy can be mighty strange and mysterious when he wants to be.

Why can’t anyone be _normal_ these days?

Thor stands up just as Loki does, his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he watches his younger brother for a few seconds before asking, “Do you like, have to get anything or can we just leave?”

Loki smiles a bit, scooting his chair in as he answers, “I need to grab my backpack from the break room and check out at the front desk, but you can go ahead and head home.”

Thor mirrors Loki’s pleased expression, nodding affirmatively. He starts for the exit, obviously keen to get out of this dumb library with its dumb books and dumb _quietness_ , only to stop, turn to Loki, and ask, “Is it okay if Sif and Fandral and Volstagg and Hogun come over tonight?”

Loki is at a rather atypical loss for words at first, taken aback by Thor’s unusual interest in his opinion. _Honestly_ , it’s a downright miraculous occurrence that Thor would be _requesting_ _his_ _permission_ to bring his godawful friends into his house, especially after he’s just let them barge in like destroyer angels time after time before. That he’s concerned _at all_ for Loki’s feelings in general is just… weird (in a perfectly good way, mind you).

“Sure,” Loki replies, and almost immediately after the simple word leaves his mouth, his head turns into this jumbled mess of _Why?_ ’s and self-directed insults, because _fuck_ his good mood – Thor White and the Four Dwarves may actually destroy his house this time, and all because he’s _happy_ ( _ugh_ , what an _awful_ emotion) enough to let them do it.

But it’s too late to change his mind, and Thor already has gifted him with one of his stupid sunshiney smiles and set off for the elevator before Loki can gather himself enough to take back or amend his answer. _Goddammit_.

Loki spends about thirty seconds staring at the floor and trying to decide what to do with his hyperactive emotions, after which he just gives up and decides to roll with whatever the gods may throw his way. Besides, if things get too rough to handle, he has Fenrir to play with and Tony on his speed dial. Right.

Loki’s on his way after his brother when a small cough coming from the direction of one of the bookshelves to his left catches his attention. He pauses in his steps, apprehensive and hesitant and just a little bit confused, but it only takes him a few seconds to realize that Kurt is probably just being a creeper and he’s not suddenly living in the middle of a cheap horror film (can you imagine what _that_ would be like – a slasher movie taking place at a college library?).

Loki glances over his shoulder and finds the aforementioned Kurt, leaning against the edge of a shelf marked _Romance_ and eyeballing him quite openly. Oh, _hell_.

You see, Loki may not be extraordinarily familiar with Kurt Wagner, but he’s familiar enough with the man to know that _one_ , he’s a flaming homosexual (and when I say _flaming_ , I mean _fah- **lay** -ming_, as in hot enough to set your drapes on fire if you let him stray too close to them), and _two_ , he doesn’t always have the best of intentions.

“ _You’re_ leaving kind of fast, hm?” Kurt questions in a slightly rhetorical, somewhat hair-raising sort of tone. He crosses his arms, watching Loki with intent brown eyes. Loki gives him a nearly imperceptible grimace in response.

“It’s seven o’clock, is it not?” he retorts, already turning for the elevator. He’s not ready to get in an argument with yet _another_ person who most likely wants in his pants (Fandral is already sure to give him problems later on anyway), and plus, Kurt’s really not that bad a guy in his opinion. He’d very much like to keep things that way.

However, because the world works in odd and terrifying ways (and apparently wants him to hate anything with a pulse), Kurt asks, all abrupt and rude and totally out-of-nowhere, “You’re sleeping with Tony Stark, aren’t you?”

And then Loki _really_ has to stop, because holy _shit_ , it’s getting _pretty fucking **old**_ having people ask him about his relationship status. He returns his attention to Kurt, eyes hard and mouth set in a grim line full of _fuck you_ ’s , and counters, “What’s it to you?”

 _Really_. Why the hell does it matter so much to _everybody in the **universe**_ whether he and Tony are a thing or not?

Kurt does this ugly, smirking little thing with his mouth (wow, what a _shit_ ), goes, “I’m just worried about you.”

 _What_.

“You have no reason to be,” Loki snaps, having fished the comment out of the aquarium of comebacks he’s got sitting at the back of his mind. He feels like some kind of hybrid porcupine-cobra sort of thing, now, prickly and pissed and _tired_ of talking about Tony Stark to people who have no idea who he is. And _yeah_ , he knows that he sounds like some dumb bitch who’s blinded by love or some other ghastly concoction nature has cooked up just to bring mortals to their knees, but he honest to God _doesn’t **care** _ about what he might look like to a bystander when he’s practically rocked Tony to sleep while the man poured the contents of his heart out to him more times than he can count on his hand.

He knows Tony better than the inside of his eyelids, and Tony knows him like the breath in his lungs. _Fuck_ what anyone else has to say about how Tony is a _predator_ or how Loki needs to watch himself, because _goddammit_ if Tony doesn’t do that better than anyone ever could, _goddammit_ if that maelstrom of a person Tony used to be is long fucking gone, **_goddammit_** if Loki doesn’t want Tony like a flame wants oxygen or like the sun wants the moon or like a heart wants a beat.

Kurt must notice the change in Loki’s demeanor (and really, only a massive _idiot_ wouldn’t), because his expression softens into something more passive. He takes a few steps closer to Loki as he says, so ambiguous it’s _infuriating_ , “I’m only being friendly.”

“Who said we were friends?” Loki sharply retorts, a spike of triumph jolting through him when Kurt gives an infinitesimal frown at his words. Loki watches the man with frigid eyes, waiting for him to reply and unsure whether or not he should make a big fuss out of asserting himself (which he really shouldn’t – _doesn’t_ – have to do).

“I apologize for being so _congenial_ ,” Kurt eventually says, like _oooh, I can be wordy too_ and just a tad vindictive. He holds his hands up in a blatant expression of innocence, adds, “All I’m saying is that Tony probably isn’t the best person to get tangled up with.” A beat. “ _I’d_ know."

Dear **_Lord_**.

It takes a few seconds for Loki to formulate a response, during which he fixes Kurt with one of the darkest looks he’s ever dared give _anyone_ (and believe me, anything nastier is something only Thor’s ever seen while he and Loki resided in what was basically relationship hell), fights through the haze of resentment and jealousy clouding his senses, and decides just where he wants to fall on the bitch scale.

Walking over to get right up in Kurt’s personal space (if you hadn’t noticed, this means that shit has definitely gotten _real_ by now), Loki lets go of any inhibitions he might have had before and says, “Honestly, I don’t give a _damn_ about what you and Tony may or may not have done in bed together forever ago. It’s not my business, and I really don’t want it _ever_ to be my business. Understand?”

Kurt stares at him, his face impassive as stone. He blinks, an action Loki is more than pleased to accept as acknowledgment.

“Tony is my closest friend,” Loki continues, his voice managing to be both aloof and forceful, “I know what I’m getting myself into, so while I appreciate your… _concern_ ,” he bites the word out, sarcastic and spiteful and everything he is as a person, “… it’s quite unnecessary and shouldn’t be anything to lose sleep over.”

Kurt’s icy façade starts to slip, starts to turn into something vaguely irritated and absolutely _wonderful_ to behold.

“Perhaps if you made an effort to get to know Tony again, you’d know that he’s nothing to be afraid of,” Loki goes on, and the affronted look Kurt shoots him, all widened eyes and pursed lips, brings a tiny, almost guilty smile to his face. He cocks his head just slightly, a master of body language (especially of the intimidating kind), and adds, “But I don’t strongly recommend that.”

Then Kurt snorts out a laugh, his expression mutating into mild amusement. He gives Loki a cursory once over and quips, “Because he’s yours, right?”

Okay, now. _This_ is why Loki really isn’t a fan of hanging out with the gay people around campus. Most if not all of them are like _this_ – petty and possessive and too obsessed with their so-called _property_. They also _love_ to keep personal databases of anyone who’s ever gotten in bed with them or even _looked_ at them with romantic intentions, not to mention the fact that most of these people are also their sworn enemies. Yeah. There’s no middle ground with the gays.

But instead of being uglier than he really has to be, Loki smirks and replies, “You got it.”

Kurt smiles a genuine smile then, and Loki suddenly feels like he’s accomplished something great for the second time today (which he has, actually; earning the favor of someone like Kurt Wagner is up there with winning a Nobel Peace Prize over here). He gives Kurt one last glance before turning away and _finally_ making his way over to the elevator, pressing the _Down_ button as he says, “Forget we ever had this conversation, okay? I don’t want to end up on your hit list.”

Kurt lets out another laugh, more open and melodious than the last one, trailing Loki into the elevator and asking, “You sure you want that? I think I like you better, now.”

“Don’t then,” Loki hums. He just barely catches the Cheshire grin Kurt rewards him with as the elevator doors slide closed.

**Author's Note:**

> Tada~!
> 
> Okay, I’m going to be honest and say that one, I kinda-sorta hate the way my writing came out, two, I haven’t edited this too extensively, and three, I had no idea that Kurt and Tony had a history until I was typing it and thinking hoshit, I’m bad. Yeah. This is how I develop plot; spontaneously and with blood in mind. Also, I have not one fucking clue how to do calculus, and I desperately hope that doesn’t show in my writing.
> 
> The next chapter is going to be a quickie, I’m almost positive. I’ll get to your comment and messages very soon, I promise, and I’m sorry for being such a lazy fuck.
> 
> Comments and recommendations are very much appreciated, my darlings. I love you guys so much.
> 
> \- Gabi.


End file.
